


you'll always chase a pedigree

by starlight_sugar



Category: Campaign: Skyjacks (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Gen, Street Performers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 06:50:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17177972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlight_sugar/pseuds/starlight_sugar
Summary: Jonnit takes it and holds it between two fingers, examining it. It looks like it’s old - not 2000s old, not even 1980s old, but centuries old. The writing on the card is cursive, black ink that glitters gold when he tilts it. There’s only one word, one simple word in the center of the card:Curiosities.





	you'll always chase a pedigree

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of the AUcember series, a self-made challenge where I try to write a new AU one-shot every day. You can read all of the AUcember fics in the collection linked above.

“Come one, come all, take a look at sights mystical and untold!” Travis waves something in the air - someone else’s handkerchief that he stole, probably, Jonnit doesn’t really try to keep track of where Travis finds these things. He’s the distraction, and he’s a loud one.

There’s already a crowd of people gathering around Travis, people on their way to their boring jobs who need a distraction or whatever. Listen, Jonnit’s not here to judge the way that people live their lives, but if you’re so desperate for a break that you’re stopping in the street to watch a stranger do magic tricks, then you should probably find a better job.

“Of course, don’t just listen to me,” Travis says. He’s standing on top of a milk crate or something, head and shoulders above most of the crowd. He waves the scarf in the air - definitely a handkerchief, Jonnit can tell now, and judging by the vibrant shade of green it’s definitely stolen - and then grabs it with his other fist. He pulls it through the fist, and the handkerchief vanishes into thin air.

That gets the crowd’s attention. He can hear people oohing and ahhing, so he puts his fingers to his lips and wolf whistles. Travis doesn’t look over at him, but it gets a couple more people clapping, so Jonnit grins to himself. He scrunches up the handkerchief, magicked from Travis’s hands into his own, and stuffs it into his front pocket.

Now, it’s time for the fun part.

The rest of Travis’s tricks are more straightforward magic stuff, the kind of thing that Jonnit doesn’t need to pay any attention to. Travis knows how to do sleight of hand like nobody’s business. The good news is, so does Jonnit. And Jonnit knows how to pick a mark.

Travis’s routine lasts maybe ten minutes, all told. By the five minute mark, Jonnit has twelve wallets crammed into various pockets. Travis was right about getting cargo pants, he can fit so much more stuff into his pockets now. He slips out of the crowd just as Travis is yelling something about needing a volunteer for this new trick.

There’s an alley, strategically around a corner and not far from him, where Jonnit lays out all the wallets in front of him. He has a system at this point, and it’s easy to follow: take cash, take credit cards, take anything valuable and leave the rest. He’s not looking to screw anyone over by stealing their ID, except if their ID photo happens to look like him and happens to say they’re 21. He’s just looking to take things that are valuable.

And things that look interesting. Like the business card in the wallet in front of him.

Jonnit takes it and holds it between two fingers, examining it. It looks like it’s old - not 2000s old, not even 1980s old, but centuries old. The writing on the card is cursive, black ink that glitters gold when he tilts it. There’s only one word, one simple word in the center of the card:  _ Curiosities. _

He flips it over. There’s an address, one not far from here, walking distance. Jonnit scans the address two or three times, committing it to memory, before slipping it back into the wallet. The right wallet, hopefully, but he doesn’t have time to check, because this is the hardest part of the grift.

Jonnit makes it out of the alley just as Travis starts announcing his final trick. He’s lucky this time: it looks like all twelve people are still in the crowd, transfixed by Travis’s card trick. It’s easy to drop wallets back in pockets and purses, to put them back so nobody will ever notice they were gone. People will think they misplaced their credit card, or that their cash fell out while they were walking down the street. They’ll never know.

Travis only looks at Jonnit once the whole time, just for a second. Jonnit meets his eye and nods, and Travis moves on like he never looked at Jonnit at all.

That’s how the best grifts are born, Jonnit thinks as he claps along with the rest of the audience. It looks like there was nothing there at all.

 

#

 

“Fifty fifty,” Travis says, and claps his hands together. “Let’s look at the haul. Anything shiny?”

“Not this time.”

“Pity.”

“I’m sorry you don’t like cash,” Jonnit says sardonically. “Next time I’ll definitely take the risk of stealing earrings.”

“That’s all I ask of you.” Travis watches as Jonnit lays everything out. “Remind me again why I’m the showman here?”

“Because a white guy yelling at people on the street is a performer, and a black kid doing it-”

“I could’ve stolen watches if I were in the crowd.”

“You could teach me how to steal watches,” Jonnit says. It’s a conversation they have fairly often, and he’s not expecting it to go any differently this time. He fans the credit cards out on the table. “I’m just saying, man, an equal partnership-”

“Jonnit,” Travis says sharply. “Where did you get that?”

Jonnit looks down at the table. There are six credit cards and one business card, an ancient-looking business card.

“What?” he whispers unthinkingly. “I put that back.”

“You took that?”

“I looked at it, it caught my attention.” He picks the card up, and Travis makes a noise of protest. “What gives? What’s up with the card?”

“I don’t know,” Travis says through gritted teeth. “But something’s wrong.”

Jonnit doesn’t know what Travis is, exactly. He knows that Travis didn’t bat an eye when he found out that Jonnit has some real magic in him, and mostly focused on the fact that Jonnit has light hands and sticky fingers. He knows that Travis is only around during the day, and he doesn’t know what happens at the night, but he has guesses. There are only so many reasons for a coyote to be roaming city streets.

So Travis has a sixth sense for these things. And he’s staring at the business card like it’s about to explode.

“It’s just a card,” Jonnit says cautiously. “Look, see, this side says  _ Curiosities, _ and the other side is going to say 1600 18th-”

He flips the card over. The address is gone. Instead it says, in the same script as the front,  _ Jonnit. _

“What the fuck,” Jonnit says.

“Jonnit,” Travis says. He has a hand up, almost like he’s warding off the card. Or Jonnit. “You need to put that down.”

“I don’t understand, I-” he flips the card over again and takes a step back. The card says,  _ You can save them. _ “Travis, what’s happening?”

“Put the card down,” Travis says, a little more firmly. “We can figure out what to do about it later, but right now you need to stop touching it.”

“Is this card reading my mind?”

“It’s reading you.”

“I don’t want it to read me!”

“Then put it  _ down, _ ” Travis says forcefully, and Jonnit forces himself to drop the card. It flutters harmlessly to the floor, and Travis lets out a long exhale. “Why did you take that?”

“I didn’t! I told you, I saw it in someone’s wallet, and I looked at it, and then I put it back.” He stares down at the card at his feet. “What- how does that-”

“Okay.” Travis steps back, not turning around, not taking his eyes off the card. He goes backwards until he reaches the table behind him and opens a drawer without looking. He fumbles around and comes up with a lighter. He lobs it over. “Catch.”

Jonnit catches the lighter easily. “You want me to burn it?”

“That thing has some bad magic in it.”

“There’s bad magic?”

“Of course there’s bad magic.”

“Is my magic bad?”

“Not all magic is the same,” Travis says, which definitely doesn’t answer Jonnit’s question. “But we need to get that out of here.”

“And burning it will do that?”

“No, but it’ll be a start.”

Jonnit bends down to look at the card. He flicks the lighter on, and the ink on the card shimmers in the firelight. “I didn’t know-”

“I know you didn’t know,” Travis snaps. “But that doesn’t change the fact that it marked you.”

“Marked me?” Jonnit’s fingers brush against the edge of the card, and the script changes in an instant:  _ We send our regards. _ “It says they send their regards, who-”

“Burn it, now.”

Jonnit lifts one edge of the card and puts the lighter up to it. It goes up in a puff of smoke, almost too fast to believe, here one second and gone the next. The smoke curls up into the air, not grey but that same gold color as the ink.

He sits back on his heels and looks up at Travis, who’s still staring at the spot on the floor. “What do you mean it marked me? What’s going on?”

“You said you had the address memorized?”

“Yeah, it was 16-”

“Don’t say it.”

Jonnit glares at him. “Why are you being such a dick about this, man? What-”

“You’re in danger,” Travis says evenly. So evenly that Jonnit sits up a little straighter. He’s heard all kinds of Travis voices, the shout he uses when he’s performing and the murmur he used to teach Jonnit to lift wallets and the careful, measured voice he uses when he’s talking about magic. This isn’t any of them. If he didn’t know any better, he would say that Travis sounds afraid.

“In danger,” Jonnit repeats. “From what?”

“That card wasn’t in the wallet, it was following you.”

“How?”

“You’ve been marked by a luminary.”

“A luminary?”

“You know what a luminary is,” Travis says. And Jonnit does, through whispers. Through things that he’s heard from Travis. “And you know how dangerous they are.”

Jonnit knows.

“Can we unmark me?” he asks. He means it to be cool and measured, the way that Travis is, but there’s a tremor to his voice that he can’t get rid of. He doesn’t want to mess with luminaries, he doesn’t want to do any more magic than he has to to steal wallets and make sure he and Travis get through every week. He wants this card to be gone.

Travis doesn’t get softer, exactly - Travis is all hard edges all the time, aloof and cool and never really proud of Jonnit - but he lets out a long, deep breath. “I’m going to call some people.”

“And?”

“And we’re going to figure it out.”

Jonnit takes a deep breath and glances down at his fingers. They’re stained where they touched the card, with something shimmering. “Travis,” he says, “am I gonna be okay?”

Travis doesn’t answer, not at first. Jonnit gets to his feet and rubs his thumb against his fingers. The metallic sheen doesn’t smear onto them, doesn’t seem any lighter on his fingers. Magic is strange like that, he figures. There’s no way to tell what the whims of the universe are, or what they’re going to do with Jonnit.

“I’m going to call Gable,” Travis says at last. “And we’ll see if they have any ideas.”

Jonnit nods. “Does this mean that I can get more than fifty percent of the take?”

“Don’t push your luck, kid,” Travis says, and Jonnit forces himself to smile at him like everything is normal. Travis is smiling back, and Jonnit is a little relieved to see that his smile looks brittle too.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr and Twitter @waveridden!


End file.
